


A Mouthful of Fresh Water

by waterbird



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-05
Updated: 2012-09-05
Packaged: 2017-11-13 15:30:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird/pseuds/waterbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry and Draco return from an arduous mission for the Order, Molly Weasley is forced to face some of her own demons as she wonders how much she can do to protect her family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Mouthful of Fresh Water

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to melusinahp and tienriu for beta reading.

A Mouthful of Fresh Water

1\. -----  
She sits in the yellow light of the study, trying to focus on her knitting. There hasn't been a Boggart in the house in three years -- not since Remus banished the one from the desk -- but Molly's worst fears crowd around her like little children squabbling for attention. Without fail, her mind wanders to the edges of the battlefields and to the dark alleyways where spies lurk -- some friends, some foes, all searching for a way to end this war on their terms. But nothing she can imagine comes close to the reality. The empty bed she is avoiding and her eldest son's scars remind her of that every waking moment.

Her children, however, never waiver. 'We can't give up, Mum. Harry needs us.'

No amount of tears or shouting will stop them. They are grown now -- not even Ginny needs her anymore -- but Molly will never stop needing them. She wants, more than anything, to know that it will not always be this way, that they will not lose any more than they already have, that victory will be theirs and, with it, a future.

The hands on the clock above the mantelpiece come together over the three. Molly drops her knitting into her lap and listens to the silent house. She told herself she wouldn't do it again, but she can't stop herself. She isn't as strong as everyone else.

Ginny's room is at the top of the stairs. Molly eases the door open, mindful that the shard of light from the hall only cuts far enough across the darkened room to cast a dim glow over her sleeping daughter. A few seconds are all she needs. Ginny would not appreciate being checked on like a child, but her daughter's anger is a small price to pay for knowing, without a doubt, that at least one of her children is out of harm's way tonight. Satisfied, she pulls the door shut with barely a sound.

Halfway to her own bedroom, a loud rustling noise from the drawing room stops Molly in her tracks. A flash of white tears past her and disappears in an elegant swoop down the stairs.

'Hedwig?' she whispers and sets off after the owl.

 

2\. -----  
Months in the field and a treacherous return journey have left them looking haggard and famished. Neither says much as they tuck into the shepherd's pie she sets before them.

Molly longs to take Harry into her arms again and tell him over and over how relieved she is that he's back. She knows it would embarrass him, though, and that he'd feel guilty about worrying her. Instead, she keeps herself busy, tidying up the kitchen and counting out the breakfast plates while the boys eat. The others will soon be trickling through on their way to another day of war, and Harry's presence will be a restorative to them. And Ginny ... well, she's never said anything to Molly, but Molly knows. Ginny, especially, will be pleased to see him.

The candlelight shines against the kitchen window, creating a mirror against the blackness outside. Molly steals a glance at Harry's reflection, content that, for now, he is here and things feel almost normal.

'This is excellent, Mrs Weasley. Thank you.'

Despite how much he has changed over the past year, Draco's sincerity still surprises her -- though not as much as the approving smile Harry flashes him when he thinks she isn't looking. Or how, when one reaches for the salt, the other does the same, fingers brushing against fingers, lingering just a little longer than necessary before pulling away.

Molly suddenly feels flushed and embarrassed and out of place. She is tired to the bone, and it takes her longer than it should to realise that her eyes are not playing tricks on her and to remember that she has seen the signs before. She has seen how war wears people down -- how it takes whatever it can until the only things one can bother to hope for are life's most basic comforts. A bite to eat. A mouthful of fresh water. A human touch.

 

3\. -----  
Gideon was like that.

Molly remembers her older brother on one of his visits during the first war. They hadn't seen each other in weeks, but on her birthday, he made sure to stop by. Normally, Gideon was one of the few people who could out-talk Molly, but that autumn afternoon, he sat quietly beside her, shoulder-to-shoulder, resting his arm casually across her lap and the growing bump that was Fred and George.

He didn't want to talk about the war, so they chatted instead about the children, and Molly prattled on about what a nuisance the garden gnomes were and what colour jumper everyone would be getting at Christmas. At one point, little Percy curled up in his uncle's lap, eager for another story about Gideon's adventures as a Hogwarts Prefect, and for a few minutes, Molly saw her brother again, the way he'd been before the war.

It was only after he had left, first taking a moment to scoop Charlie into the air and to tousle Bill's hair on his way to somewhere he wouldn't name, that Molly felt his absence like a physical ache. Something told her to stop him leaving, but by the time she reached the back garden, Gideon was gone. And the war felt closer than ever before.

He and Fabian never made it home for the holidays. Everyone said they had died heroes, but Molly found no comfort in that notion. She would have preferred them alive, even if it meant they were just ordinary men -- or even cowards.

She feels the same way now in this war. She wouldn't love her children less if they sat it out -- just as she does not love them less for the killing she knows some of them have had to do. But that's a dirty secret she has admitted to no one but Arthur, and he has taken it with him to the grave.

 

4\. -----  
Lifting her eyes once more to the window, Molly looks at Draco. She knows some people, especially Ron and Ginny, think he is a coward. Partly because they cannot forgive him for what he did at Hogwarts and partly because they believe he turned to the Order only for protection.

He was like glass when he first came to them -- all sharp, jagged edges framing his transparent anger. Anyone who squinted hard enough, though, could see the fear spidering to the surface like fine, hairline fractures. Molly had thought he might shatter under the slightest pressure -- and the vehement objections to taking him in revealed that many in the Order seemed to hope for it. Harry, however, must have seen what Molly saw, because he had insisted they give Draco a chance.

Tonight, they talk around her questions about where they've been, but the practised calm on their faces and in their voices tells her that whatever they have been up to has taken its toll. Earlier, trailing behind them on their way to the kitchen, she had noticed in their weary footsteps the same defiant resolve she had seen in Gideon's. And they carried themselves like Gideon, too -- like men a generation older.

Even now, within the heavily protected walls of Grimmauld Place and in the comfort of the warm kitchen, Harry remains tense, alert. He reaches for seconds and says, 'It's good to be back.' Molly suspects this is purely for her benefit. There's no smile this time. In fact, Harry avoids her eyes completely, his gaze darting instead from his plate, to the doorway, to the fireplace. To Draco.

'Ron's at Fred and George's tonight,' Molly says cheerfully, hoping that mention of his friends will nudge Harry out of whatever battle he's fighting in his head, 'and Hermione's up North doing some research. But Ginny's here. She'll be thrilled to see you.'

Harry moves the food around on his plate for a moment, then nods. 'Yeah,' he says quietly. 'That'll be nice.'

Draco stretches his long legs out beneath the table and captures one of Harry's ankles gently between his feet. Molly hears herself trying to fill the awkward silence with an update about the home schooling programme that went into effect after Hogwarts closed.

'I can hardly believe how quickly the NEWTS are creeping up on us both!' she exclaims, and they politely agree, as if school and exams matter in their world.

There's one last pot that needs scrubbing, and Molly gratefully takes the task to heart, forgoing magic for a change. Through the glare of candlelight against old warped glass, she sees that there is still a sharpness about Draco, but the fragility of a year ago is gone. He is sturdier and more focused -- as if he knows at last what he's fighting for. When Harry meets his gaze, the tension finally slipping away from his face and shoulders, Molly knows, too.

She has raised six boys and, despite how horrified they would be to find out, she knows what they get up to and about the places their curiosity can lead. But after thirty years of marriage, Molly also knows something about the subtleties of silent communication. It has been over a year, but Arthur still beckons to her from the wordless hollow space inside her.

Molly unties her apron and sends it across the room, where it settles neatly on a peg behind the door. 'Since Ron's away, you can have his bed, Draco. I'm sure he won't mind.' It's a lie, of course. Ron will mind. But he'll learn to live with it. 'I'll just go tidy up.'

'Mrs Weasley, don't go to any trouble. Really,' says Harry.

'It's no trouble, Harry. You just take your time. The both of you look as if you haven't eaten in weeks.'

As she passes by the table on the way to the door, she rests a hand on Harry's head, resisting the urge to try to make his hair behave, and tells them good night. Then she leaves them to finish their meal in the companionable silence that is theirs alone.

 

5\. -----

Outside Ginny's room, Molly pauses. She wants so desperately to protect her daughter. But there are things she'll never be able to guard her against, things it would be unfair to prevent, even for all the pain that they will cause her.

She almost reaches out for the door but catches herself and takes a step backwards. The door opens anyway, and Ginny emerges, sleepy-eyed and with surprise written across her sheet-creased face. Below them comes the soft fluttering of wings, and they watch as Hedwig lands on the rail at the bottom of the stairs.

'Harry?' Ginny is wide awake now, eyes glittering. And then she is flying down the stairs, her white dressing gown billowing out behind her like a ghost.

Molly doesn't try to stop her, but as the sound of Ginny's footsteps fades, she thinks she can almost feel her daughter's heart break. Or is it her own?

~ The End ~


End file.
